


Of Husbands and Men

by kesdax



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1473733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesdax/pseuds/kesdax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing she needs, as she prepares to set off on an expedition to another galaxy, is her ex-husband turning up. AU. Sheppard/Weir</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Husbands and Men

She’s pissed that Jack’s gone over her head, made the decision like it’s final, like she’s not even got a choice and – _goddammit_ – this is her expedition, her project, _she_ should be hand-picking the team not General Jack O’Neill who gets to stay behind on Earth, consequences be damned. She wonders belatedly if he knew all along, if he requested Sheppard as his pilot, because he knew about their history and was curious. She doubts Jack’s that underhanded though.

She manages to catch him alone, and uses her best negotiating skills to persuade him to let the whole thing drop, but Jack isn’t budging.

“You saw him in that chair,” he says.

“But –”

“If he was anyone else, you’d be begging me to let them go with you.”

Elizabeth bites back a response, because, goddammit, he’s right. But she can’t help but think that the last thing she needs, as she prepares to set off on an expedition to another galaxy, is her ex-husband turning up.

“Man up, Elizabeth,” Jack says, “what’s the worst that can happen?”

~~

Worst turns out to be a dead commanding military officer and a vampiric alien race that are accidently woken up ahead of schedule and hell bent on eating them all. John goes through the debrief calmly and Elizabeth pinches the bridge of her nose, trying not to let their first loss consume her. Sumner was a friend, they weren’t close, but there was mutual respect between them and they would have worked well together, here, on Atlantis.

She’s not sure what to do now, and she wonders vaguely if it was a mistake to let John run off on his rescue mission now that Sumner is dead anyway. She reminds herself of the survivors; Ford and a handful of Athosian refugees. It’s not a complete loss. But without her CMO, she’s not sure how well this expedition is going to survive. John’s the highest ranking officer they have left, but she’s not sure how well they are going to be able to work together given that they haven’t spoken properly for over five years.

“I had no choice…” John trails off and she knows him well enough even after five years to know that he’s taking Sumner’s death hard. She’s read his written report, and Ford’s, and this debrief is just a formality to get everything straight in her head. He shot Sumner because he believed that’s what the colonel had wanted, after having being tortured brutally for information by the Wraith. She’s not sure if she believes that, but she trusts him on this one anyway. After all, if they are going to continue working together, out here, in another galaxy cut-off from Earth, then they are going to have to learn to trust each other again.

 _One small step at a time_ , she thinks.

She breaks open Jack’s champagne, brings him a mug as a peace offering and makes small platitudes of how they are going to have to learn how to work with each other. Their history stretches uncomfortably between them, neither of them acknowledging it.

“You know I can get us into serious trouble here,” he says.

And she thinks: _you already have_. But she says nothing, thinks of the last time she saw him, before Antarctica, when everything fell apart and wonders what the hell either of them are doing here. She’s a diplomat and he’s a washed out Air Force officer and they could both screw this whole thing up royally.

They clink glasses and stare out at the ocean. It feels like a new beginning, but the past continues to haunt her anyway.

~~

She keeps things strictly professional. They don’t talk about their past, barely let on that they used to know each other before Atlantis, and she doesn’t think that anyone else on the expedition knows, and for that she is grateful. Things could get…complicated if their previous relationship got out.

Within a few days they find a rhythm that works for them. He handles the military side of things, keeps her posted, fills out his paperwork on time and generally stays they hell out of her way during their limited free time. She’s not avoiding him, but she’s not ready to have a conversation that’s about them and not about Atlantis or the expedition.

He’s his usual self, just as she remembers, she notes, as she watches him make fast friends with the other expedition members: he bonds with Carson almost immediately and she suspects the animosity with Rodney is just for show. Then there is the Athosian woman. John requests for her to be placed on his team and she wonders briefly if there is something else to it, before pushing the thought away. It’s none of her business.

It’s not like she cares anyway.

~~

She’s reluctant at first to sign off on the mission to return to the wraith planet, but she’s wise enough to know that there could still be useful intel there that could help them fight the wraith.

She watches John’s team, plus a couple of marines, from the control room as their puddle-jumper goes through the Stargate. It’s their first official mission off-world. She keeps herself busy with paperwork and tries not to think about all the things that could go wrong, all the things that _did_ go wrong last time her people were on that planet.

The Stargate activates off-schedule and she knows instinctively that something is wrong even before she has clicked on her radio. She rushes to the control room as alarms blare and tries not to let the panic settle in.

“What’s going on?”

The technician glances at her briefly before turning back to his controls. “The reconnaissance team is reporting a medical emergency,” he reports. “I’ve alerted Doctor Beckett – he’s on his way.”

“Put on Major Sheppard,” she orders.

“He’s the one who’s injured.”

 _John,_ she thinks and her heart catches in her throat. There’s a sudden fear that fills her that she’s not expecting and she wonders briefly where it came from before she forces her mind to focus. She gestures for the technician to put her through to the puddle-jumper and tries to keep her voice professional and distant when she asks how bad John’s injuries are.

“Some sort of funky alien bug attached itself to his neck,” Ford explains. “He’s completely immobile.”

Elizabeth frowns at that. John hates bugs. He used to stock ridiculous amounts of bug-repellent spray, she recalls absently. “What’s it doing to him?”

“We don’t know, but we can’t get it off him and we tried everything.”

“You understand the risk of bringing something like that back to Atlantis?” she says as if she’s casually talking about the weather and it’s not the life of her commanding military officer hanging in the balance. She tries to stay professional, stifle the panic building up inside her, because if they lose John so close after losing Sumner, she doesn’t know how this expedition can survive.

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” says Ford, “but we really don’t have much choice in the matter.”

Things get worse before they get better. The ‘jumper gets stuck in the Stargate and the rippling pool that used to make her catch her breath in awe now looks cold and uninviting.

She calms Rodney with her voice; he’s useless when he’s hysterical and she needs him focused now more than ever. Thirty-eight minutes. They have thirty-eight minutes before everyone on Jumper One is dead.

She grabs Beckett and all the scientists she can find to put their heads together for this one. The greatest scientists planet Earth has to offer. Thirty-eight minutes. Surely they can come up with _something._

She checks on her people; going back and forth between Beckett, the jumper bay and the scientists gathered in the conference room for updates, and tries not to check her watch every five seconds to see how much time they are wasting.

She walks in on an argument between Kavanagh and Simpson and has to take a deep breath to fight back the anger in her voice. She listens to their theories, ways up the risks but ultimately agrees with Simpson’s assessment. She snaps a comment at Kavanagh without thinking and isn’t surprised when he calls her out on it later. He’s one of Rodney’s choices for this expedition, not hers, and she remembers vaguely from his file that he has issues with the military.

Her encounter with Kavanagh on the way to her office leaves her rattled and she knows she could have handled it better, but she doesn’t have the time (or the desire) to flatter his ego. All she can think about is John and her people on that ‘jumper and how they are about to die in less than twenty minutes if they don’t figure this out.

She lets out a sigh of relief at Zelenka’s voice over the radio saying he’s come up with something and prays that it’s not too late to save John as she listens whilst Ford and Teyla try various things on the bug attached to the Major’s neck and relay their observations back to Beckett.

When Ford tells her the ‘jumper has moved, that the rear compartment has breached the event horizon, all her hopes are dashed.

“How is Major Sheppard?” she asks, and has to physically stop herself from saying his first name, to keep this professional.

She can hear the pain in his voice over the radio, knows he’s trying to hide it from her, from them all, but she can tell.

“Hang in there, Major,” she says, keeping her voice professional, reassuring. “We’re working on the problem.”

“I know you are,” he replies, his voice raspy. “Listen,” he continues, “uh, I’d like to say something while I still can.”

“Don’t,” she says, hyper aware of her surroundings: the control room, everyone listening. They’ve left so many things unsaid over the past five years anyway there’s not point changing things now anyway. “You’re gonna get through this.”

And he does. It’s touch and go for a while, but he makes it.

She visits him in the infirmary after, when all the paperwork is done and she feels collected enough to be able to see him. He’s surrounded by his team and she feels out of place when they exchange easy jokes, like they’ve all been friends for years. He smiles when he sees her but it’s strained and she wonders why she felt the need to come here, when she already knew he was okay, when she’s done working for the day and has already changed into her civilian clothes.

She asks how he’s feeling and isn’t surprised when she doesn’t get a straight answer. She can tell he’s still in pain (Carson is strict with the pain meds, given their limited supply now that they are cut off from Earth) and she knows this whole ordeal has scared the hell out of him. It’s not his first near death experience, and it probably won’t be the last given their experience of the Pegasus galaxy thus far.

She waits for the others to leave before she asks him what she really came here for, what she can’t stop thinking about.

“By the way, what were you going to say?”

He brushes her off and she isn’t surprised. They aren’t ready for that yet, she supposes. They have time, and for that she is grateful. She just hopes it doesn’t take him coming close to death for them to finally start talking properly again.

~~

She’s wrong about that. She’s not surprised, but she’s still too shaken (and _freezing_ ) to give it more than a passing thought. Except this time, _she’s_ the one that almost dies.

After, when the storm has passed and her people have started coming back through the ‘gate, she takes a long, hot shower.

 _Sixteen_ , she thinks. That’s how many bodies they found wearing Genii uniforms. She tries not to think too much about it, tries to get the image of John pointing a gun at her out of her head.

She turns off the water some time later, when she’s stopped shivering and her bones and muscles have stopped aching from being exposed to the cold for so long. She doesn’t feel clean though, when she dries herself off with a towel, and she struggles to put her finger on why.

Elizabeth doesn’t sleep and is grateful when the door chime goes off sometime close to 3 a.m. and isn’t surprised to find John on the other side, hair more dishevelled than ever. She used to love running her hands through that hair, and her mind flashes unwilling back to better times, when they were happy and young and newlywed.

“Hi,” she says and sixteen dead bodies flash through her head. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her intently. She knows that look, more meaningful than any words. He had thought she was dead and it has shaken him down to his core.

She invites him in and he silently follows as she fusses with straightening up her quarters even though they are perfectly tidy already – it’s not like she spends a lot of time here, she’s far too busy for that.

He watches her calmly and she gives him the time he needs to gather his thoughts, to say what he has to say.

“I’m gonna send a team back to the Genii homeworld,” he says and it’s not what she expects.

She frowns at him, folding her arms across her chest, conscious that she’s wearing nothing but her pyjamas.

“Why?” she asks.

He shrugs. “See if Kolya’s dead. Make sure they know that we’re not going to take this assault lying down.”

She shakes her head, can feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. This is typical of him; reacting before thinking. He is just as impulsive as she has ever known him, and not in a good way.

“Revenge?” she says, hearing what he’s not saying.

“Elizabeth –”

“No, John,” she snaps, “this is _not_ how we do things.”

“And how do we do things?” he asks, the anger rising in his voice. “Sit back and let our enemies take over until we’re all dead?”

“John,” she says more softly this time. “What’s this really about?”

“You almost died, Elizabeth,” he snaps. He turns away, running a hand through his hair and steadfastly refusing to meet her eyes.

“Yes,” she agrees calmly, “but I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point,” John bites back, “and you know it.”

“We are not going to go back there, guns blazing on some foolhardy mission of revenge!”

“God _dammit_ ,” he yells and his fist slams against the wall.

It takes all Elizabeth’s willpower not to flinch. She’s seen him angry before, remembers moments, during those really bad times, when she used to spur that anger on. Because hating him and being angry with each other made their marriage falling apart seem easier.

But they aren’t married anymore, and there is more at stake here than their own personal lives. They have a city to run, people they are responsible for and she can’t – refuses – to let him play Rambo on the Genii.

 _He’s done that already,_ she thinks and sees the bodies of dead Genii shoulders, some barely older than children. She shuts her eyes and wills away the memories.

When she opens her eyes again, he’s gone.

~~

When he disregards her orders, she knows this isn’t going to work.

Bates apologises after; he’s used to following the chain of command, but not from a civilian. She reprimands him, reminds him that _she’s_ in charge and thinks she gets her point across. He never disobeys one of her orders again.

John’s harder to get through to; convinced he is in the right and not even willing to see her point of view. He’s as stubborn as ever, and it brings up old arguments and all the things left unsaid. They have a huge fight. In her office, glass walls and all. She’s too angry to notice everyone in the control room watching them, mouths hanging open. John storms out and everyone pretends to be enthralled by their work, but she knows that she’s fucked up, _they’ve_ fucked up, by letting their past get in the way of running Atlantis. They are supposed to be leaders, supposed to set an example.

News of their argument spreads like wildfire through Atlantis. There’s a clear divide between the civilian scientists and the military men now. She wonders briefly if John is about to stage a military coup, if he’d be really that spiteful. She laughs the thought away, but her entire body feels unsettled.

~~

It’s not until a fist fight breaks out between McKay and Ford that she realises something is wrong. Something other than the general cabin fever and strain that can build up when people are cooped up together under dire circumstances, the threat of death and war hanging over their heads.

“Is this normal for your people?” Teyla asks as they watch Beckett and his medical team patch up the two men.

“No,” says Elizabeth, “not entirely.”

When Beckett clears Rodney for active duty again, and she’s thoroughly reprimanded him so much so that his cheeks are burning in his embarrassment, she orders him to check the censor readings for anything unusual. He opens his mouth to protest her vague request but she glares at him and he shuts his mouth and gets to work. Reports come in all over the city: more fist fights and heated arguments. When the first gun goes off she calls John to her office.

~~

“Lieutenant Bremner is going to be fine,” Doctor Beckett reports, “it was just a flesh wound.”

“We’ve locked up all the guns,” says John, “hopefully we won’t have any more gunshot wounds to deal with.”

“Aye, but it’s not exactly hard to find another weapon in a place like this,” says Beckett.

“Which is why we need to find out what’s causing this,” Elizabeth chimes in. “ _Before_ anyone else gets hurt.”

All eyes turn to Rodney. They are in the conference room, the four of them plus Teyla. John had taken some convincing before he believed something was wrong. She doesn’t know if it was the way she stayed calm while he ranted and argued or if it was Bremner getting shot that finally convinced him. They are working better together now, but she can see him struggle to keep the rage at bay.

“Okay, so our censors didn’t pick up anything out of the ordinary,” Rodney explains, “no gas leaks or weird energy readings.”

“But…” John prompts through gritted teeth.

“But,” says Rodney, and Elizabeth suspects he’s enjoying this a little too much. She glares at him and he speeds it up, coughing slightly before opening his mouth again. “But,” he continues, “we did find this.”

He hits play on his laptop and everyone stares at it expectantly.

“Rodney…” Elizabeth warns after a beat when nothing happens.

“Hold on,” he says and turns up the volume.

“I don’t hear anything,” says John.

“That’s because you keep talking,” Rodney snaps back.

They listen for a few moments longer and Teyla sits up sharply in her seat.

“It’s a faint hum,” she says, “like a vibration.”

Rodney nods, grinning widely and a little bit smugly. He can be smug when he fixes it, Elizabeth thinks.

“Of course!” says Carson.

They all look at him and he gulps awkwardly at the sudden attention.

“Certain sound vibrations have been found to affect brain function in animals,” Carson explains. “It can affect behaviour, depending on the frequency, and result in increased aggression.”

“Is that what this is?” Elizabeth asks Rodney.

He nods his head. “I think so. This has probably been going off since we came to Atlantis.” He gestures to the vibrations coming out of his laptop. “It’s been building up over time, getting worse.”

“Where’s it coming from?” Teyla asks.

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” Rodney says. “Zelenka’s working on it now.”

“Good,” says Elizabeth. “Keeping working at it, shut it down as soon as you can. In the meantime,” she turns to address the others, “try to keep everyone calm.”

“I could start giving out some sedatives?” Carson suggests.

“I don’t really want to start dishing out drugs,” Elizabeth says. Besides, she can hardly dope Rodney and his science team up.

“We should confine all unnecessary personnel to quarters,” John says.

Elizabeth nods in agreement and gets up to leave.

“Doctor Weir,” says Teyla, “might I suggest meditation.”

“Meditation?” Elizabeth echoes and Rodney snorts, muttering under his breath about ‘voodoo.’

“I find it very calming,” Teyla says, ignoring Rodney as he gathers up his laptop.

“Give it a shot,” Elizabeth says.

~~

John seeks her out a few hours after Rodney and Zelenka have managed to shut down the radio tower broadcasting the strange vibrations; they think it was some sort of Ancient warning beacon, sent out automatically when the Ancients vacated Atlantis and returned to Earth. Elizabeth doesn’t care much for the reason behind it, she’s just glad calm has settled over Atlantis once again. There are no more reports of arguments or out of character behaviour and Lieutenant Bremnar is due to leave the infirmary in a few days.

John looks embarrassed, and a little bit ashamed, when he steps into her quarters.

“Look, Elizabeth, I –”

“You don’t have to apologise,” she says. “You weren’t yourself. None of us were.”

“That’s not the point,” he says, “I shouldn’t have disobeyed your orders”

“John, it’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does,” he says. “I want to make this work… you, me… working together.” He stumbles over his words but she gets the gist of it. She wants to make it work too, put all this mess behind them and focus on surviving and exploring the Pegasus galaxy.

“But I don’t know if I can.”

“John,” Elizabeth warns. She’s not sure where he’s going with this, but the look in his eyes scares her a little. He’s looking at her with want and need and something that he has no right feeling anymore.

“Elizabeth,” he murmurs and steps closer. She instinctively moves back, bumping into her desk, feeling trapped and desperately trying to remember why their marriage didn’t work in the first place. Because she worked too much, because he never listened, because she loved him too damn much to watch him drink himself to death.

He closes the distance between them, his lips capturing hers and all those reasons shoot out the window as if they were never reasons at all, just excuses for their failures at not working hard enough on making it work.

He’s still a damn good kisser, but she pushes him away before she lets herself get swallowed up by it.

“John, we can’t do this,” she says reasonably.

“I’ve missed you so goddamn much,” he says, not hearing her, his forehead resting against hers.

“John…” she says, but she can feel her resolve melting, just like it always does with him.

“Tell me you haven’t,” he says. “Tell me you haven’t missed this… _us._ ”

“We don’t work, John,” she says and remembers the last night she saw him before Antarctica. The night she left him. The night she had to go pick him up at some dive bar because he was too drunk to drive himself home, too drunk to remember where he lived.

“I screwed up,” he admits. “I always screw up.”

She wonders if he’s thinking of their relationship, his stumbling career. Or maybe he’s thinking about Atlantis and Sumner’s death, of all the people they’ve lost and couldn’t save.

She doesn’t ask, because she knows it’s all of the above. John Sheppard: invariable screw up.

But that’s not exactly true. He’s not entirely to blame for their train wreck of a marriage, and in many small ways she feels like she let him down somehow by not making it, not _forcing_ it, to work.

“You didn’t screw up, John,” she says against his lips. She kisses him gently, tries to tell him everything that she can’t put into words with that one small gesture.

His lips are warm; his entire body is warm, so close to hers. She’s missed this; the smell of him, so close, and the _feel_ of him, strong and solid and she’s never felt safer.

She misses before: before the arguing and the fights, before he fucked up his career and started drinking to forget, when they were happy and making plans and the future seemed so bright and wonderful and neither of them had heard of the Stargate or Atlantis.

John deepens the kiss and his hands slip beneath her shirt, caressing skin and he’s so warm and familiar and it feels like everything home should feel like.

She pushes him away, every fibre of her being screaming in regret and she wants nothing more than to touch every inch of him, explore him all over again, but her responsibilities sit heavy in her heart.

“We _can’t_ ,” she repeats.

He nods in understanding and his hands slip reluctantly away. They sit on the bed, inches apart, but it may as well be miles, and she tries to calm her racing heart.

“Maybe we could try being friends,” she says lightly.

He smirks – they’ve never been friends, going straight from introductions and then into each other’s pants – but turns serious quickly. “How about partners?”

She nods. She likes the sound of that.

“Okay, good,” he says. He kisses her again, but this time it’s empty of desire. It feels like goodbye, but there’s a touch of hope that quickens her heart and she thinks they can make it work, can somehow survive this ridiculous galaxy and make it home, wherever that is.


End file.
